


Easier

by secretkeeper13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Mild Smut, My First Smut, Wangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretkeeper13/pseuds/secretkeeper13
Summary: Ginny’s back at Hogwarts for her seventh year and misses Harry. It should be easier.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Easier

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by all the lovely wangst posts on Tumblr yesterday from floreatcastellum and TheDistantDusk. It got me thinking about Ginny’s seventh year, and how she would feel to be back at school. It’s my first (sort of) smut, so hopefully it isn’t too cringe-worthy!

She didn’t understand why it was so difficult to be apart from him. Last year had been excruciating- the hours spent writhing in pain, the uncertainty whether she’d ever see him again, a war that seemed endless, and an enemy that, at the darkest hour, seemed invincible. It should be easier now, she thought. Easier now that the war had been won. Easier now that they could write to one another. Easier now that she knew, with absolute certainty, that he loved her. 

But it wasn’t. Not on nights like this where she lay behind the velvet bed curtains, listening to the sounds of soft breathing and snoring around her, unable to sleep because she missed him terribly. It wasn’t easier when Luna said something ridiculous and she instinctively looked for him to exchange a grin with, or when she was out on the pitch, expecting his rumbling voice to yell out when someone made a bad play or flew out of position. 

And now that Hogwarts felt like a school again, rather than a prison, it was all too easy to hear his strangled moans and gasps when she walked past the shade of the copse of trees by the lake shore. To imagine the taste of his mouth in an empty corridor. Too easy to remember the feel of him, pressed up against her on the rough stone wall of the broom cupboard. 

What made it harder, she thought, as she lay in the cold, midnight stillness, was that she now knew exactly what she was missing. She no longer had to imagine, to piece together what it might be like to be with him from those few shining weeks of kisses and stolen touches. She knew the electric heat she felt when he gently stroked between her legs. The whispered murmurs of encouragement, his voice low in her ear, as he touched her. She knew what it felt like to lay on her back, just like she was now, with his mouth on her, his tongue swirling and lapping. The intensity in his darkened eyes as he gazed up at her, the feel of her hands fisting in his soft hair. She knew exactly what felt like when he slid into her, the fullness, that delicious pressure when he moved in her. And she knew what it felt like to lay in bed with him after, her head resting on his bare chest, his arms wrapped around her, his voice telling her he loved her. 

She knew it was silly to miss him this much. In a few months, she’d be done with school, and they could be together in the way they both wanted- in the way she had secretly always wanted, though even thinking of the possibility last year was too painful. Soon they would be coming home to each other at the end of the day, cooking meals together, having lazy lie ins on weekend mornings, no longer having to sneak around to avoid her parents or her brothers. 

But she couldn’t shake the fear that this was all too perfect, that something would come along and pop the shining soap bubble of this life with him. She tried to push these thoughts aside, because god knows, Harry was fatalistic enough for the both of them. But the fear persisted, niggling at the back of her mind, coming to the forefront in the still, dark night- fear that he wouldn’t come home from a mission, that something would happen to him, that she would never get to experience the life she pictured, which was so close she could almost taste it. 

And she wanted it, badly, more than anything, more than even Quidditch or the Harpies. She wanted to see him at the end of the aisle, to watch him cradling a newborn, to walk together with him on a sandy shore, surrounded by laughter and children. She realized that her fear was not just that something would happen to him, but that if something did, she would never be able to have these things, because she knew enough now to know what it would be like to share her life with him, knew enough to know that she could never be satisfied with less, that she couldn’t ever settle for someone who wasn’t Harry.

The little voice in the back of her head told her that she was only seventeen, that she shouldn’t think like this, but she couldn’t switch off the fear as she lay in the dark. She felt a lump form in her throat and bit the inside of her cheek, willing herself out of her current thoughts. 

She took a deep breath, and thought of Harry, his eyes, his lips, his hands. She thought of him doing all those things to her that she no longer had to imagine, the feel of his hands and his mouth on her, of him inside her. Her hand instinctively slid into her knickers, her finger tracing slow circles. She imagined that it was him there, doing this to her. She could almost hear his voice, low in her ear, whispering that she was beautiful, that he’d wanted this for so long, how much he missed her, that he loved her. She gave herself over to the feeling, the tingling, buzzing pleasure that began to crest inside her. And soon, like a wave, it crashed over her. As she removed her hand, shuddering, she felt relief.

The little voice in the back of her head sounded again, stronger this time, more like herself. He’s Harry, it said, he will always come back to you. He’d do anything to come back to her, she knew that, he already had once. You’ll write to him tomorrow, it said. You’ll see him in Hogsmeade next month and for Easter holidays. You’ll be with him each night in half a year’s time. 

Six more months. It would be easier soon.


End file.
